


Riddles of the Dead

by Maeglin_Yedi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Indiana Jones Series
Genre: Action/Adventure, Anal Sex, Angst, Crossover, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeglin_Yedi/pseuds/Maeglin_Yedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Riddle is in need of an expert in archeology during his travels after Hogwarts. He gets the best. But whether that's good enough for him remains to be seen. </p>
<p>Harry Potter/Indiana Jones crossover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riddles of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Indiana Jones  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Category: crossover, romance, drama, adventure.   
> Warnings: minor consensual bondage  
> Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Indiana Jones and related characters belong to Paramount Pictures and LucasFilm.
> 
> Summary: Tom Riddle is in need of an expert in archeology during his travels after Hogwarts. He gets the best. But whether that's good enough for him remains to be seen. Harry Potter/Indiana Jones crossover. 
> 
> A/N: written for the crossover_hp fest, for a_belladona
> 
> Big thanks to Gina for the beta!
> 
> Word count: 17814  
> First published: March 2005

_Somewhere to the east of Baghdad, November 1945._

 

"This unique. Money first. You pay first," Najib said to the young foreigner who sat across from him at the rickety table in the back of his shop. "This very unique. No money, no see."

Najib waved the scroll between them, and the young man's hazel eyes followed his every move. 

"I'm quite aware it's unique," the young man said. Najib wrinkled his nose at the posh English accent. "That's why I'm willing to pay you 10,000 pounds for it. But I have to determine its authenticity first." The young man smiled like a snake. "No see, no money."

Narrowing his eyes, Najib gave the young man a dubious look. He didn't trust foreigners one bit. 

"I just need one look, and then I'll pay you. Trust me." The young man's smile turned angelic, and Najib stroked a finger over his thick mustache. 

"Fine, fine," Najib said, and pulled the leather string open so the scroll unrolled on the tabletop. "Here. Take look."

The young man bent forward, his eyes fixed on the parchment. "Oh yes, it looks quite authentic," he said, though he didn't seem to be speaking to Najib anymore. "This is most interesting." He reached out and trailed a finger over the top of the parchment.

"Ah! No money, no touch!" Najib slapped the young man's hand away, giving him a stern look. 

"These hieroglyphics...they don't look familiar at all."

"Old. Very old. You need expert."

The young man chuckled and looked up at Najib with shining eyes. "Yes, it seems I do, doesn't it? And where can I find such an expert?"

"You need Indiana Jones. He good expert." Najib pulled the parchment away. "Now give money."

"Of course." The young man got up and reached inside his thin coat. Much to Najib's surprise, he pulled out a stick.

"Where money?" Najib demanded when the young man pointed the stick at him. 

"Oh, yes, I'm ever so sorry. I lied." The young man flicked the stick, a wolfish grin playing around his lips. 

"Avada Kedavra."

They were the last words Najib heard. Something struck him in the chest and stopped his heart before his body hit the dusty floor.

*~*~*~*~*

_Somewhere in Cairo, January 1946_

 

Tom recognized Indiana Jones immediately. He was the only other Westerner in the small tea shop. Tom made his way through the crowded room, ignoring the Arabs and their loud chatter, and took that moment to observe Jones. The man looked...old. And rugged, as if he'd seen his best years already. And was that a whip hanging from his belt?

"Mr Jones?" Tom asked, his voice polite, as he stood behind the man. 

Jones turned in his seat and looked up at Tom from under his filth-streaked hat. "That's Dr Jones to you, kid."

Clenching and unclenching his hands beside him, Tom inhaled a deep breath. He knew he had to play this carefully. He couldn't be Lord Voldemort to a Muggle such as Jones, even though Tom desperately wanted to leave his Muggle name behind him. He couldn't show Jones any of his true power if he wanted the man to cooperate. And he needed Jones' expertise. 

"My name is Tom Riddle. I asked you to meet me here."

Jones' jaw dropped and he rose to his feet. "You're Mr Riddle? You're just a kid. How old are you? Sixteen?" His eyes narrowed and he sniffed. "Stop wasting my time, kid."

"I'm nineteen," Tom said, trying to keep the resentment he felt from his voice. "And trust me, Dr Jones, that what I'm about to show you could hardly be considered wasting your time."

Jones gave him a careful look, seemingly considering him. Then he nodded. "Take a seat and tell me what you want."

"Thank you." Tom sat down with a stiff back and stared at Jones across the table. "I hear you're the archeologist who discovered the Holy Grail."

"Really?" Jones leaned back in his chair, looking bored. "That was more my father's doing."

"What?"

"Never mind. What do you want, kid?"

At that moment, an Arab brought them a tray with tea and a basket of figs. Jones threw him a few coins, and pushed one glass of tea in Tom's direction. 

"I need your expertise," Tom said, adding four lumps of sugar to his tea, just as he'd seen the locals do. "I'm looking for the Eye of Ra."

Jones gave him a blank stare, which lasted longer than was comfortable for Tom. And then he laughed, loudly and obnoxiously. "You are wasting my time."

"And here I thought you were one of the best archeologists around," Tom muttered, raising the glass to his lips. 

"That's right, kid. I'm an archeologist. I don't deal in mythology."

"Perhaps you'd like to take a look at this." Tom reached inside his jacket and pulled out the scroll. Careful not to smudge it, Tom placed it on the table and unrolled it. 

Jones' eyes went almost comically wide. "Where did you get this?"

"That's none of your concern," Tom said, a smile playing around his lips. "I need your help to translate it, because for as far as I've been informed, this scroll discloses the location of the Eye of Ra."

"But..." Jones leaned closer to the parchment, his gaze enthralled. "We don't even know what the Eye of Ra is. It could be anything. A statue, a medallion, a five-thousand-year-old   
piece of dung."

"Whatever it is, it grants the owner immortal life," Tom said, his voice quiet. 

"That's what mythology tells us." Jones looked at him, one corner of his mouth quirking up. "But I wouldn't be too sure of that, kid. Mythology is usually only one step removed from fairy tales."

"I'm not interested in your opinion," Tom said. "I just need your help translating this scroll and finding the correct location. I'll compensate you generously for your troubles, of course."

Jones sighed. "I don't know. I don't feel much for chasing after a fairy tale." Jones reached for the basket and picket up a fig. But just as he went to pop it in his mouth, something inside the basket moved. 

A small cobra reared up, hissing its discontent while it stared at Jones. Stilling his hand in midair, Jones sat frozen, his face paling. 

"Leave the human alone," Tom hissed in parseltongue. "We won't hurt you."

The cobra turned its head, fixing its slitted eyes on Tom. "You speak my tongue?"

"Yes," Tom hissed. "We pose no threat to you. Leave us alone."

Swaying back and forth once, the cobra opened its mouth to show its fangs. And then it coiled inside the basket, nestling its slim body between the figs. 

"I hate snakes," Jones said through gritted teeth. "What did you just do?"

Tom blinked up at him, and realized he might have just given away too much. "I have a way with snakes," he said quickly. "I used to have one as a pet. A big one."

Jones nodded, though he didn't seem convinced. 

"Do people usually send you cobras in a basket of figs?" Tom asked, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. 

"No, usually they just poison the dates." Jones got to his feet. "Let's go."

"Where to?" Tom gathered his scroll and got up as well. 

"Away from here, because it's obvious someone doesn't want me talking to you."

"Huh?" Tom followed Jones out of the crowded shop, finding it hard to keep up with the taller man. 

Jones gripped his elbow the moment they set foot on the narrow street. "A cobra in a basket of figs? That doesn't ring a bell?"

Tom frowned, trying to pull away from Jones' hand. "Cleopatra," he said after a moment. 

"Right. It's the exact way Cleopatra died." Jones started walking, and Tom stayed by his side as best he could. "It seems the locals don't want me going after their treasure," Jones said, readjusting his hat. "At least they're not Nazis this time."

Tom gave him a puzzled look. 

"I hate Nazis."

"Me, too," Tom agreed with a shrug. This time it was Jones who gave a puzzled look. "I grew up in Muggle London during the recent war," Tom explained. And immediately realized he'd said too much. He bit his lip. 

"Muggle London?" Jones asked, glancing at Tom. "Is that near Soho?" 

Tom cleared his throat. "It's actually on the other side of the Thames," he said vaguely. "Where are we going?" he added in an attempt to change the subject. 

"To see an old friend."

*~*~*~*~*

"Indy!"

"Sallah!"

Tom watched as Jones embraced a large, bearded man. They clapped each other on the back and smiled like close friends. Scuffing his shoe in the sand, Tom glanced around the courtyard, surrounded by white walls and filled with native plants. 

"Sallah, meet Tom Riddle," Jones said, waving towards Tom. "My new client."

"I heard you were back in town, Indy. Now I understand why." Sallah shook Tom's hand roughly. "It's always work, isn't it" Sallah gave them both a hospitable bow. "Come this way. Fayah has made tea."

"Indy?" Tom asked casually as he followed Jones to a table. 

"It was the name of his dog," Sallah said before Jones could open his mouth. "His real name is Junior. Just ask his father."

"Thanks for that," Jones grumbled, seating himself at the table. Tom pursed his lips and tried not to burst into laughter. Somehow he didn't think Jones would appreciate that. A woman with shining black hair served them tea, exchanged a few words with Jones, and smiled at Tom. 

"Why are you here, Indy?" Sallah asked once his wife had left them. 

"Show him," Jones said, waving at Tom. "We may have a lead on the Eye of Ra."

Tom unrolled the scroll on the table, and watched how Sallah's expression changed from disbelief to something akin to shock. 

"This can't be. The Eye of Ra?"

"Yeah," Jones said. He leaned closer to Sallah and pointed at a set of hieroglyphs at the bottom of the page. "These could be directions. But I'm not sure about this hieroglyph. I've never seen it before."

Tom tilted his head as he stared at the faded image of what could be a twig. 

"That is old," Sallah said, frowning. "First dynasty. Possibly even before that. People think it means magic."

Tom's heart skipped a beat. 

"Didn't I tell you?" Jones poked Tom in his side with his elbow. "A fairy tale."

"Perhaps," Tom said with a weak chuckle, and rubbed his side. Let Jones believe whatever he wanted to believe. Tom knew he was on the right track. 

"These here look more familiar," Sallah said, indicating a few images at the top. 

Jones cocked his head, frowned, and then a smile curved his lips. "Setne Khaemwaset." 

"What?" Tom had no idea what Jones was talking about. 

"It's an old legend, kid," Jones said, leaning back in his chair. He sipped his tea, and Tom followed his example, eager to hear the story. 

"Setne Khaemwaset, a wise man in his time, discovered the location of Thoth's magic book. He stole it, but the spirits of pharaohs buried alongside the book forced him to return it. According to the legend, the book's hidden somewhere near Men-nefer. Also known as Memphis."

"A book of magic?" Tom mused, intrigued. 

"That's what it says," Indiana sighed. "According to this scroll, the book is hidden in a tomb in the big Necropolis west of Memphis. My guess is if we find the book, we find more clues on the Eye of Ra."

"I can arrange transportation," Sallah said. "You could leave tomorrow."

"Camels?" Jones asked with a worried curve of his eyebrow. 

"No, a car." Sallah huffed. "It's just a two-day drive." He turned to look at Tom. "Where are you staying, Mr Riddle?"

"The Ibis hotel. It's just on the other side of – "

"Every hotel in Cairo overcharges," Sallah said, and got to his feet. "I'll have my children collect your belongings, Mr Riddle. I insist you stay here for the night. Hassan. Hassan! Come here, son."

Tom gave Jones a sideways glance, and Jones answered him with a look that clearly told Tom there was no use in arguing the matter. A boy ran inside the courtyard, followed by at least eight other children of various ages. Sallah busied himself giving instructions with wild gestures of his hands. 

"Are those all his?" Tom asked quietly. 

Jones grinned. "Yeah. Seems that making children is the only thing Sallah's good at, besides digging in the desert."

Tom sipped his tea.

*~*~*~*~*

The room was small, but surprisingly cool. There was a bed on each side with a nightstand between them.

"Better try to get some sleep, kid," Jones said, unbuttoning his shirt. "We have an early day tomorrow."

Tom nodded, and proceeded with untying his boots. But as he bent down, his wand fell from his back pocket and clattered to the floor.

"What are you carrying a stick around for?"

Reaching for his wand, Tom pursed his lips. "It's for good luck," he muttered, sliding his wand inside his bag. 

Jones laughed. He reached for the holster on his belt and pulled out a black pistol. "This is my good luck charm." He placed it on the nightstand, and gave the metal instrument an affectionate pat.

Tom had seen pistols before during his journey through the Middle East and northern Africa, but in truth, they mystified him. It was hard to imagine that Muggles were able to build such a small yet deadly contraption. Then again, Tom knew all too well how deadly Muggles could be with their scientific inventions. The recent war had provided enough evidence of that.

"You all right?"

Snapping his gaze up, Tom gave Jones a quick nod. "Yes, thank you. I'm just not used to seeing such weapons up close." 

"You don't know how to fire a gun?" Jones asked. Tom shook his head. "Remind me to show you once we're out in the desert." 

They proceeded to undress until they were both down to their underwear. Tom crawled under the sheet and watched as Jones did the same. But Jones didn't turn the gas lamp off, as Tom expected. Instead, Jones hooked his arms behind his head and stared at Tom. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Tom asked, uncomfortable with Jones' inquisitive gaze. 

"I'm just trying to figure you out."

"What?"

Jones rolled onto his side, his head pillowed on his arm. "What is a kid like you doing here, going after treasure in Egypt? Did you get bored with that silver spoon stuck up your ass?"

"If you must know, Dr Jones," Tom said stiffly, clutching the sheet up to his throat, "I was raised in an orphanage. I've never had any money of my own until very recently."

"What did you do? Rob a bank?" Jones chuckled. 

"No, my father died and left me his fortune."

A faint blush colored Jones' cheeks. "I had no idea. Sorry to hear that."

"Spare me your sympathy," Tom said, his voice filled with malcontent. "I was never close to my father, since he left me to rot in that orphanage all my life. I've always wanted to go out and see the world. And now I have the money to do so. You may judge me for that, if you wish."

"I'm not judging you, Tom. I just want to understand who you are. We'll be stuck in the desert together for a few days, after all."

Tom was surprised Jones had used his first name, though it didn't upset him. Jones had the kind of careless air about him that was hard to get upset with. 

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep. I'm awfully tired. Good night, Dr Jones." Tom rolled on his side, his back turned to Jones. 

"Good night, kid. And call me Indiana."

Tom closed his eyes and smiled against his pillow.

*~*~*~*~*

"What is it?" Tom stared in horror at the metal monstrosity.

"It's called a jeep," Indiana said, clapping Tom on the shoulder. "Don't tell me you don't know what a car is. I know folks aren't that backward in England."

Tom wasn't all that familiar with cars. Yes, he knew what they were and he'd seen plenty of them around London while growing up. But he'd never actually sat in one. He apparated his way around, but obviously, he couldn't tell Indiana that. 

"I always went to school by train," Tom said by way of explanation.

Indiana threw the last of their supplies in the back, and grinned at Tom. "Then I guess it's best if I drive."

Tom couldn't argue with that. He climbed inside the jeep and sat down on the leather passenger seat, feeling uneasy about handing his life over to a Muggle invention that could drive them off a cliff at any given time. 

"Good luck," Sallah said, shaking Tom's hand. "Here, you'll need this." He handed Tom a hat, very similar to the brown one Indiana wore, except it was white. 

"I'm not really the type for such a hat," Tom said, turning the hat over in his hands. 

"In the desert, everyone is the type to wear a hat," Sallah said with a laugh. "The sun can make you do crazy things, Mr Riddle."

Sallah walked around the car and embraced Indiana. "Be careful, Indy. Word has it that some people aren't happy with this mission."

"Hey, story of my life." Indiana climbed inside the car and pulled the door shut with a metallic bang. He turned the key and the engine roared to life. Tom grabbed hold of the door, curling his fingers around it while he inhaled a few deep breaths. Indiana yanked the shift forward and the car drove away from Sallah, who waved them goodbye.

"What is our plan, exactly?" Tom asked once they were driving down one of Cairo's main streets. 

"We go to the Necropolis and find Thoth's book of magic," Indiana said, one elbow resting casually on the door as he maneuvered the car through the traffic with his other hand. "And if you're lucky, you might get to kiss Snow White awake as well."

Tom snorted. 

"You do know who Snow White is, don't you?" Indiana asked with a teasing grin. 

"As a matter of fact, I do. I saw the movie." Movies were one of the few Muggle things Tom actually liked. "Though it was a bit too cheerful for my tastes."

Indiana hummed something that sounded suspiciously like 'hi-ho'.

"If you dare burst out in song, I will replace you faster than you can say 'Grumpy'," Tom said, narrowing his eyes at Indiana. 

"Relax, kid." Indiana yanked at the steering wheel to avoid a cart someone pulled out onto the street. Stifling a surprised shriek, Tom hung onto the door for dear life. 

"Yeah, I know." Indiana floored the gas pedal to pass a horse and carriage, dust whipping up behind them. "Traffic in Cairo is always an adventure."

Tom thought he might be sick.

*~*~*~*~*

"Better out than in, kid." Indiana patted Tom on the back. Tom stood bent over, hands gripping his knees. His stomach turned again, but there was nothing left in it, and Tom gave a dry heave.

His stomach had been bothering him the whole day as they drove south alongside the Nile, and then turned west into the desert. But it hadn't been until the last few miles over a particularly rough road that Tom's stomach had given up. 

"It's just so bloody bumpy," Tom whispered. He cleared his throat and spat on the sand. Then he straightened himself, his head light and his throat burning. 

"Here." Indiana pushed a canteen of water against Tom's chest. 

"Thanks." Tom rinsed his mouth a few times, and gulped down half the canteen.

"We'll camp out here for the night," Indiana said, glancing around. 

"Out here?" Tom glanced around as well, and saw nothing but sand, with rocks and pathetic brown bushes sticking out here and there. "Why not nearer the river?"

"Crocodiles," Indiana replied with a grin. "Let's get a fire going, and then I'll show you how to use my gun."

"A fire? But there isn't any wood."

"Sure there is." Indiana waved at one of the brown, almost leafless bushes. "That'll burn."

"Muggles," Tom mumbled, stomping towards the bush. 

"What?"

"Nothing!" Tom called, and proceeded to rip the branches apart. 

Indiana got a fire going, and Tom watched as Indiana opened a few cans of beans and poured them in a pan. He hung it over the fire to heat, and also put on a pan of water to boil some rice. Grabbing the empty cans, Indiana got to his feet. 

"Come on, kid. Time to learn how to use a gun."

"I don't think that's necessary," Tom said, because he didn't feel much for using more Muggle devices than he absolutely had to. 

"Trust me. Out here, you need to know how to use a gun." Indiana walked towards a large rock, the setting sun casting him in orange light. He placed the cans on the rock and walked back to Tom. 

"All right." Tom got up, brushed the sand off his arse, and waited while Indiana took his pistol from his holster. And then Indiana stepped up behind Tom, both his arms wrapped around him. 

"Here, take it," Indiana said, and his breath tickled the side of Tom's throat. "Take your time to aim, and squeeze the trigger gently."

Tom accepted the gun, which felt unexpectedly cold against his palm, as if it hadn't absorbed any of the desert heat. He felt more uncomfortable with the cold metal than with Indiana's strong arms around him. 

"Right. Now aim," Indiana said, his voice soft. His stubble rasped against Tom's ear. "Relax your shoulders and don't lock your elbows." Indiana's hands slid down Tom's arms, and Tom felt a shudder pass through his body. He lifted his arms and squeezed one eye shut as he stared at the can over the short barrel of the gun. The tip of his tongue poking out between his lips, Tom squeezed the trigger. 

A loud shot sounded through the barren landscape, and the can flipped off the rock with a sharp clang. The force of the shot drove Tom backwards, and he sagged against Indiana, who chuckled and slid one arm around Tom's waist to hold him up. 

"Good aim."

"Thanks," Tom said, although he already knew he had good aim. His curses never missed. 

"Try again."

Indiana's voice made Tom want to close his eyes and bury his nose against Indiana's throat. He felt very hot, and it wasn't because of the warm, dry air around them. Something inside him stirred and burned him from the inside out. He tried to concentrate and pulled the trigger again. And again.

The two remaining cans lay in the sand with small holes through them. 

"You're a natural," Indiana said. He didn't release Tom, even though there were no more cans to shoot. Tom turned his head, his face very close to Indiana's, and for a moment he didn't know what to do. Indiana seemed to have the same problem, because all he did was stare at Tom while his breath touched Tom's lips. 

"Dinner's ready." Indiana released Tom, but didn't step back just yet. Tom studied his face, taking in his blue eyes, his tanned skin, and the small scar on his chin. 

"Yes," Tom finally said, and shook himself out of whatever it was that had held him captured for the last few minutes. "Let's eat."

Indiana's mouth curved up in a grin, and he strolled towards the fire. Tom stood motionless for a moment, the pistol still in his hand, and wondered what it was about Indiana that made him forget he was nothing but a common Muggle. 

They sat around the campfire on opposite sides and ate their meal from tin plates with a simple spoon. It was all quite barbaric, Tom mused, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as it probably should have been. Afterwards, Indiana pulled out a bottle of liquor and took a few sips, leaning back against his bag. He offered it to Tom, and while Tom wasn't much of a drinker, he accepted the bottle and took a brave swig. 

It was easy to forget about his life back in Britain with the darkness of the desert swallowing them, the unfamiliar song of a desert bird sounding in the distance. It was easy to forget he was on a mission when there was nothing but sand and peace around them. It was easy to forget he was a wizard with Indiana's intense gaze making him feel it was all right to just be Tom. 

"What are you thinking?" Indiana asked, taking the bottle back from Tom. "You look so serious."

"Nothing," Tom said, stretching his legs out while resting an elbow on his bag. "You really don't believe in magic, do you?" Tom wasn't sure what had loosened his tongue. The liquor, possibly, or perhaps it was just Indiana's company. 

Indiana chuckled. "Should I believe in magic?"

"What if I told you I've seen evidence of it?" Tom said, carefully taking in Indiana's reaction. 

"Look, kid," Indiana said, and pushed himself up, resting his elbows on his drawn-up knees as he stared at Tom. "I know there are powers out there that go beyond our world. I've seen a thing or two during my life. I just," Indiana sighed and gave Tom an almost sympathetic look, "I just don't think they're worth chasing after."

"I beg to differ," Tom said.

"You're young. When I was your age, I wanted to chase it as well. I wanted to believe every fairy tale I heard. But I've learned that it's best not to chase certain things. There are things in this world that are best left alone."

Tom shrugged and plucked at a button on his shirt. "But when something is there for the taking..."

"Ah, but those things are never there just for the taking. There's always a price you have to pay."

"You think there's a price for immortality?"

Indiana narrowed his eyes. "I've seen immortality. It didn't look pretty."

"You have?" Tom asked, perking up. 

"Yeah. I might tell you about it tomorrow. Now I think it's time to get some sleep." Indiana got up, grabbed two bedrolls from the jeep, and rolled them out on the sand. Tom noticed the bedrolls lay against each other, much closer than he thought was appropriate for two men to sleep. 

Indiana caught his stare and chuckled. "It gets cold in the desert. Very cold. You'll be crawling against me before the night is over."

Tom huffed, and also got to his feet. He waited until Indiana had spread out two thick blankets over the bedrolls, and then he lowered himself to his makeshift bed. Indiana followed his example after he placed his gun near the head of the bedroll, and they both crawled under the blankets. Tom made sure he lay a respectful distance away from Indiana. He closed his eyes and willed sleep to come. 

But much later, when the fire at their feet had almost died down, Tom still wasn't asleep. And worse, he felt cold. His feet were still relatively warm from the campfire, but his bollocks felt like a couple of ice cubes.

He glanced at Indiana, who seemed to be sound asleep. Good. That meant Tom could sneak out his wand and cast a quick warming spell. The only problem was that his wand was in his bag, which lay on the other side of Indiana. 

Tom shifted closer to Indiana, reaching one arm out over the other man to snatch his bag. But just when he felt the canvas brush across his fingertips, Indiana wrapped his arm around Tom and pulled him close. 

"Told you," Indiana mumbled, and buried his nose in Tom's hair. 

Staring into the darkness with wide eyes, Tom didn't dare move. This was a lot warmer, yes, but it was also quite intimate. He felt the entire length of Indiana's body press against his own. Tom shifted, not sure if he wanted to pull away, and felt something hard press against his hip. And he knew it wasn't the pistol. 

Indiana had an erection. 

Things were now becoming hot. Tom's cheeks burned and he couldn't help press a little closer to feel the outline of Indiana's prick against himself. 

Tom wasn't a virgin by any means, and he had always known he liked men more than women, but this was a Muggle. Tom closed his eyes. He really did not want to entertain such ideas about a Muggle. 

But there was no denying that Indiana smelled good and felt even better. Tom sighed and allowed himself to relax. They were just sleeping side by side, he told himself. There was nothing intimate about sharing a bed with a man when they were both still dressed. Even if that man did sport an erection that Tom just couldn't ignore feeling pressed against his own.

*~*~*~*~*

The cold woke Tom the next morning. As he forced his eyes open, he saw Indiana had already got up. Tom pulled the blanket over his head and curled into a ball, desperately trying to get warm.

"Morning." Indiana poked Tom in the back with his boot. "Get up. That'll get you warm."

Tom wanted to give a reply, but his throat felt dry, as if he'd been inhaling sand the whole night. Which, on second thought, he probably had. With the blanket still wrapped around him, Tom crawled up to his feet, his teeth clattering. 

Indiana had got another fire going, and something that smelled like coffee was heating over it. 

"Get washed up, and then we'll have breakfast," Indiana said, handing Tom one of the canteens. And just as Tom accepted it, he remembered the feeling of an erection against his own cock during the night. 

Heat rose to his cheeks, and he quickly looked away from Indiana. Had that been real? Or had it just been a dream?

"Sleep well?" Indiana asked, poking the campfire.

"Er..." Tom dropped the blanket, and shivered as the morning chill embraced him. "Think so. A bit cold."

Indiana laughed. Still feeling confused, Tom bent down and poured freezing water over his head. That drove any thoughts about erections straight from his mind, and he shook his head while he rubbed water over his face. He remembered Indiana holding him close at one point during the night. He'd probably only imagined the erection. He hadn't had any sex since he'd left Hogwarts. It was most likely just his hormones acting up. 

Tom brushed his teeth and combed his hair. After he was done he felt wide awake, a bit warmer, and quite hungry. He sat down near the campfire while Indiana prepared their breakfast. It wasn't much, but it was enough to satisfy his hunger. They ate dry bread and goat cheese, and drank hot coffee. Tom kept silent, and tried to ignore the odd looks Indiana gave him now and then. 

"We'll reach the Necropolis late this afternoon, and we'll start digging there tomorrow," Indiana said, shoving sand over the campfire with his boot. 

"Do you know where to dig?" Tom asked as he folded their blankets and rolled up the bedrolls. 

"There are some clues on your scroll. We won't know for sure until we get there." 

They gathered their supplies, and Tom managed to inconspicuously check if his wand was still in his bag before he threw it into the jeep. When he turned around, Indiana stood before him. 

"Don't forget this." Indiana pushed the white hat on Tom's head, and then slid on his own hat. He gave Tom a smile that somehow made Tom's knees buckle. 

"And if you get sick again, just give a yell." Indiana patted Tom's shoulder, and climbed inside the jeep. 

"I'm not planning to," Tom muttered, feeling oddly embarrassed he didn't have the stomach to brave such a simple Muggle invention as a car.

*~*~*~*~*

"This is it?" Tom was unable to keep the disappointment from his voice as he stared at the pathetic sandstone ruins in front of the huge rock wall.

Indiana took off his hat and dusted off the sand that had gathered there during their trip. "Yeah. What did you expect?"

"I'm not sure," Tom said, "But the term Necropolis certainly implied something a bit more majestic."

"This is old, kid," Indiana said with a chuckle. "Back in the day it was majestic. This is just what's left of it after four thousand years of sandstorms."

Tom shrugged and helped Indiana unload their supplies. Thankfully, his stomach had behaved during their ride through the desert. While he'd felt queasy most of the day, he hadn't thrown up, which was a vast improvement. 

"Let's get something to eat, and then we'll study the scroll." Indiana collected the dry branches they'd taken with them from their previous campsite and started a fire. Tom watched, seated in the sand, his hat tipped back.

Indiana served Tom rice and beans on one of the tin plates, and seated himself opposite Tom. "Do you have a sweetheart waiting for you back in England?" he asked, and took a bite of his meal. 

Snapping his gaze up at Indiana, Tom choked on a bean, and had a brief coughing fit. "No," he said, his voice raspy, and he cleared his throat. "Are you married?"

Shaking his head, Indiana grinned. "Nah. I've met plenty of pretty women, but I've never felt the need to settle down."

Tom couldn't help wondering why it stung to know Indiana had been with women in the past. 

"I just find it hard to believe a handsome young man such as yourself doesn't have a nice girl waiting for him." Indiana curved one daring eyebrow.

Staring at his boots, Tom felt his ears burn. He didn't understand why Indiana's compliment made him feel like giggling. "Let's just say girls aren't high up on my list of priorities," he said. There. Indiana could make of that whatever he wanted without Tom having to go into an inappropriate discussion about his sexual preferences. Some things just weren't said between gentlemen.

Indiana tipped his hat at Tom, and continued eating. Tom copied the gesture, which earned him a grin from Indiana, and he too resumed eating his dinner. The only sounds around them were their spoons scraping across their plates while the setting sun disappeared behind the rock wall, leaving them in shadows.

"Hand me my bag, kid."

Tom really wanted to tell Indiana that he was neither a servant nor a slave and that Indiana could get his own bloody bag. But Indiana smiled at him, and it was both cocky and honest. Tom sighed, reached behind him, and threw the bag at Indiana. 

"Come sit here with me. Bring the scroll." Indiana pulled a small leather pouch from his bag, and took a pair of glasses from it. Taking the scroll from his own bag, Tom couldn't help but smile at the sight of Indiana with glasses. It made him look a lot more sophisticated, and for the first time Tom could see the gentleman inside the adventurer. 

He sat down beside Indiana, making sure their knees weren't touching, and handed him the scroll. 

"Now this," Indiana said, pointing at the second row of hieroglyphs, "says something about the eyes of a scarab." Indiana glanced around, and all Tom did was stare at Indiana, having lost his interest in their surroundings some time ago. 

"It's too dark now, but tomorrow we'll have to look for a scarab. It's the only clue about the location of the tomb." Indiana slid his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Tom still hadn't stopped staring, though he wasn't aware he was doing it. 

For a moment, neither moved or spoke. And then something touched Tom's knee and he snapped back to reality. Indiana had placed his hand on Tom's knee, and Tom watched how that hand rubbed up his thigh. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, his breath hitching. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" That cocky smile was back, and it echoed in Indiana's voice. 

"You're touching me. That's not considered appropriate behavior," Tom whispered, his bottom lip trembling while his limbs felt frozen. 

"Maybe not. But I don't think you're going to stop me." Indiana stroked his hand up Tom's hip, and pulled his shirt from his trousers. Tom's eyes fluttered shut when he felt Indiana's fingers touch the skin of his lower back. But he forced them open again and stared into Indiana's determined eyes. 

"I should stop you." Tom knew he should. This was a Muggle. Not to mention a man twice his age. But that didn't bother Tom as much. This was a Muggle, and Tom was a wizard, and this Muggle had no right to lay a hand on the heir of Slytherin. 

"Stop me," Indiana said, and made it sound like a dare. 

Tom tried. He really, really tried. He sat perfectly still and ignored his stiffening prick and the enticing touch of rough fingertips on his skin. 

"I know you want me." Indiana's voice was suddenly very close, and Tom felt his lips brush across his throat just below his ear. "I wasn't asleep last night, Tom. I felt exactly how much you want me."

"No," Tom said, because he couldn't believe it hadn't been a dream and Indiana had felt the evidence of Tom's unsuitable attraction. Indiana's hand stilled. Tom finally turned his head and gave Indiana a puzzled look. 

"You said no," Indiana said, his eyes suddenly uncertain. 

"I meant yes," Tom said, and leaned closer. So close he felt Indiana's breath on his mouth, and the tip of his nose pressed against Indiana's. 

"You'd better be sure about this."

"I'm not," Tom said in all honesty. "But I do want it."

"That'll work for me." Indiana curved one hand around the back of Tom's neck, pulled him closer, and crushed his lips to Tom's. 

There was no denying this was a man kissing him, Tom thought. A _man_ , and not a fumbling boy who had less experience than Tom did and who was too eager and always came too soon. This was a man who demanded submission and didn't ask for permission, but just took what he wanted. 

Tom moaned, his body going slack under the force that was Indiana Jones. He let Indiana push him back until he lay in the sand, Indiana resting half on top of him. Indiana's stubble scraped across his lips and Tom parted them, needing both air and Indiana's tongue inside his mouth. 

This went beyond any kiss Tom had ever felt. Indiana devoured his mouth, his lips rough and his tongue strong. Indiana didn't tease or flirt. He commanded Tom's body through his touches, his fingers now unbuttoning Tom's shirt. 

"Have you ever done this before?" Indiana asked against Tom's lips. 

 

"That depends on what you mean by 'this'."

Indiana grinned and rolled on top of Tom, forcing his hips between Tom's legs. And there it was, the promise Tom had felt the previous night. That had been all the teasing and flirting Indiana would ever do, Tom now realized. Indiana ground his erection against Tom's, pushing Tom's legs up and apart.

"I've never," Tom breathed, anxious and exhilarated, "I've never been on the receiving end before. I always...give."

"Not with me." Indiana slid his hands under Tom's shirt and pushed it up. Tom arched his back at the feeling of nails scraping across his nipples. "I'll be giving tonight."

Tom squeezed his eyes shut and wished he could do the same with his ears, because he didn't want to hear himself say, "Yes, I want it," and "Yes, I want you."

He didn't want a Muggle to take that part from him, but there was no stopping the hands that were now tugging on his trousers. There was no stopping the lips working their way down Tom's throat, and there was no stopping the erection that pressed against his thigh and made Tom spread his legs even more. 

He didn't want to submit to this man, to any man, but he couldn't deny his body's demands.

"Relax," Indiana said, his eyes dark with arousal but his voice tainted with amusement. "I've done this before." He tugged Tom's belt open, and Tom kicked off his boots so Indiana could push his legs up and yank off his trousers, leaving Tom naked and exposed. 

"God, you look good." Indiana leaned back and trailed his fingers over Tom's arse, dipping them between his cheeks and brushing across his pucker. Tom's legs jerked, and Indiana released them so Tom could let them fall to the sand. His eyes fixed on Tom's, Indiana curled his fingers around Tom's hard cock, and tugged on the fastenings of his own trousers with his other hand. 

Worrying his lip, Tom watched how Indiana shoved his trousers down until they pooled around his knees, and he finally saw what had him submitting to a Muggle. Indiana stroked his cock, the head glistening, and Tom pushed his own hips up and pressed his prick into Indiana's hand.

Tom was moaning, and he might even be begging, but he couldn't help himself. Words spilled from his lips, words he'd never said to another man before. "Please. Inside me. I need you. Inside me."

Leaning over Tom, Indiana reached for something, never ceasing his strokes on Tom's treacherous cock. And a moment later, Tom felt slick fingers press against his entrance, and he grabbed hold of his knees so he could pull them against his chest. He was giving himself to a Muggle and loving every second of it. 

He loved the feeling of one finger breaching him and sliding inside him. He loved the feeling of that finger teasing his prostate until he curled his toes. He loved the feeling of more fingers thrusting inside his channel, preparing him. And he loved the feeling of Indiana's hard cock pressing against his tight ring of muscles, and sliding inside him with practiced ease. 

"You okay?" Indiana asked, his breathing shallow. Tom nodded. He'd never expected having a cock inside his arse would feel that good, that natural, that welcome. He grabbed hold of Indiana's arms when Indiana rested his hands on either side of Tom's shoulders. 

"Yes, god, yes," Tom groaned at the feeling of Indiana's cock pulling out of him and thrusting back inside. 

"You like it hard?" 

"Yes," Tom said, though he wasn't sure. 

"Good." Indiana slid his cock out until only the head remained inside, and then pounded into Tom. 

"Oh, yes," Tom moaned, because now he knew. "Yes. Hard."

Indiana rested his forehead on Tom's shoulder, his hair damp with perspiration, and trailed one hand down to fist Tom's prick. Tom buried both his hands on Indiana's hair, and Indiana curved his back as he thrust into Tom with brutal force. And again. And again. 

"That's it. Hard. So hard." Tom squeezed his eyes shut and felt nothing but Indiana's cock ramming into him and Indiana's hand stroking him fast. His sac drew up and Tom gritted his teeth, because he didn't want it to be over yet. He didn't want to lose the feeling of something hot and hard fucking him, taking him, stripping him of every ounce of pretended pureblooded decency he'd ever had. 

"I'm close," Tom breathed, his mouth pressed against Indiana's hair. "So close."

"Don't hold back," Indiana said against Tom's shoulder, his cock pressing against Tom's prostate with every thrust he gave. 

Tom couldn't hold back. It was too much, too good, too hard, too perfect, and he let go. Snapping his eyes open, Tom stared up into darkness, his prick pulsing in Indiana's hand as he shot his warm release between them.

Grunting, Indiana continued milking Tom's cock until Tom hissed and bucked his hips. And Indiana continued pounding inside him, and Tom lost control of his body and could do nothing but let Indiana do whatever he wanted to him. 

He loved it. He was letting a Muggle take his virginity, his pride, his power, and he loved it. 

Raising his head, Indiana locked his gaze with Tom's, and Tom stared into his eyes and felt Indiana's cock press deep inside him when Indiana finally came. 

He let a Muggle's semen tarnish him and it was the best thing Tom had ever felt. 

Indiana slowed his thrusts, his prick giving a few last twitches, and he lowered his face to Tom's, kissing him. But this kiss was different. It was no longer demanding, but pleased and contented. Tom kissed him back, though he wasn't sure if his own mouth could show how good he felt.

"All right?" Indiana asked, stroking Tom's hair off his sweaty forehead. 

"Yes," Tom said, and pressed his lips to Indiana's again, because he wanted to sense how good he'd made Indiana feel. 

"You want to turn in for the night?" Indiana kept brushing his lips over Tom's cheek and nose and chin, like he couldn't get enough of Tom's skin. Tom liked that idea. He liked it a lot. 

"Perhaps we should," he whispered. 

"I'll be right back." Indiana slid his softening cock from Tom's body, and Tom inhaled a sharp breath at that odd, empty feeling. Grinning at Tom, Indiana got to his feet, pulled his trousers up, and disappeared into the direction of the jeep. 

Tom lay there in the sand, staring up into the darkness, only now noticing how many stars he could see. Thousands of lights above him, lights from billions of miles away but still there for Tom to admire. 

"Come on." Indiana offered his hand, and Tom accepted it, a silly smile plastered on his face he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. Indiana pulled him to his unsteady feet and led him towards the bedrolls. 

"It will get cold tonight," Indiana said as Tom wormed himself under the blanket. 

"I know." Tom waited until Indiana lay beside him, and then shifted closer to him. Indiana held his blanket up, and Tom crawled under it, pressing his half-naked body against Indiana's. 

"Sleep well," Indiana whispered, nuzzling Tom's hair. Tom didn't reply. He closed his eyes, buried his nose against Indiana's throat, and smiled.

*~*~*~*~*

Again it was the cold that forced Tom awake. He blinked his eyes open, confused for a moment why was wearing nothing but his unbuttoned shirt. And then he remembered.

He'd let Indiana take him. Right there, in the sand of an ancient Necropolis. 

Tom lifted his head up and glanced around, expecting to find Indiana poking a fire and making coffee. But there wasn't a fire, and there was no Indiana in sight. An odd stinging feeling burned in Tom's chest at the realization that Indiana had left him alone. 

Ignoring the annoying sensation as best he could, Tom got to his feet and shrugged off his shirt. Left naked, he shivered as he walked behind the jeep to relieve himself. Then he grabbed one of the canteens and poured water over his head and down his chest, ridding himself of any evidence of what he'd done the previous night. He brushed his teeth, and just when he was about to gather his clothes, a familiar voice called out. 

"Found it!"

Indiana came trotting up to him from between two ruins, and even though Tom knew it was ridiculous to try to hide his naked body after what they'd done, his hand still made to lift his shirt up. 

"I found it," Indiana said with a smug grin once he reached Tom. 

"That's great," Tom said, and stared at Indiana's boots, unable to meet his gaze. Strong fingers tipped his chin up.

"You're not having any regrets now, are you?" Indiana asked, rubbing his thumb over Tom's jaw. 

Tom shook his head. "No. But why did you run off like that?"

Chuckling, Indiana pulled Tom closer. "You looked like you needed the sleep. I thought I'd see what I could find before you woke up."

Tom nodded, because now that Indiana was there, it didn't seem to matter anymore how he'd felt when he woke up. Indiana captured Tom's lips in a searing kiss, his hands trailing down Tom's shoulders and arms to cup his bare arse. Tom moaned and answered the kiss, curling his arms around Indiana's neck. 

"Let's save this until later," Indiana said, pressing small kisses on Tom's lips and cheek. "We have a book to find."

"All right." Tom reluctantly let go of Indiana. 

"Get dressed." Indiana threw Tom's trousers at him, sand whipping up around the fabric. Tom dressed while Indiana collected shovels, pickaxes and torches from the jeep. Tom even managed to sneak his wand from his bag and shove it in his back pocket. There was no telling what they'd encounter, and Tom felt a whole lot more secure knowing he had his magic to aid him. 

"This way," Indiana said, and Tom balanced two shovels on his shoulder and followed Indiana through the loose sand in the direction of a small tomb. 

"How did you find it?"

"All these tombs are built in the shape of a scarab. Those tombs," Indiana pointed at a caved-in construction in front of them," are its eyes."

Tom took in the sandstone tomb. It had two entrances, one of which had crumbled under the weight of time. Both entrances seemed to lead into the same dark room, cut into the rock wall that lay behind it. Indiana lit two torches and handed one to Tom. 

"This way. Be careful. And don't touch anything." Indiana led the way, and Tom followed him inside. The air was dank and old, and Tom blinked his eyes to get used to the darkness around him. 

Indiana waved his torch around, taking in the many hieroglyphs on the wall. "Ah," he said, and took out the scroll. "The Great Sphinx." 

Tom stared at the image of the sphinx on the wall, and then peeked over Indiana's shoulder at the scroll, which contained a similar hieroglyph. 

"It says one should look as far as the Great Sphinx rises to Ra," Indiana said, and frowned. 

"The Great Sphinx is twenty meters high," Tom offered. He didn't think it would be an intelligent thing to say he'd read that in a tourist guide. 

"Of course!" Indiana clapped Tom on the shoulder, shoved the scroll under his belt, and backed up against the wall beside the entrance. Together they took twenty large paces, which landed them only a few feet away from the opposite wall. 

"Let's dig." Indiana grabbed a pickax and Tom took hold of a shovel, and together they proceeded to hack and dig their way into the ground. The torches lay to the side, only just providing enough light. Tom's back started to hurt and his arms trembled. He wasn't used to this kind of physical labor.

"I think we've hit stone," Indiana said, wiping sweat off his face with his sleeve. "Get this sand out of the way."

They shoved all the loose sand aside until they saw the clear outline of a large capstone. Indiana wormed one end of his pickax under it, and with a loud grunt, lifted the stone up. Cold, musty air rose up, tickling Tom's nose until he sneezed. Grabbing the stone's sides, they managed to slide the stone out of the way, and saw a dark passageway leading down, just big enough to allow one adult entrance. 

"Down we go," Indiana said, reaching for a torch. Tom saw stone stairs in the shimmering firelight, and watched as Indiana lowered himself through the hole in the ground. When even his hat had disappeared out of sight, Tom kneeled and peeked into the darkness. 

"Are there stairs?" he called. 

"Yeah, there aaaaaaaaaaaah!" A loud thump followed. 

"Are you all right?" Tom had his wand in hand, ready to cast a spell to help Indiana, but then he saw Indiana sitting at the bottom of the crumbled staircase, torch in his hand. 

"They don't go all the way down!" Indiana got to his feet, adjusted his hat, and waved up at Tom. "Come on, kid."

Cautiously, Tom lowered himself into the near-darkness, feeling for the stairs with his feet. He shuffled down the steps, jumped the last bit, and hurried towards Indiana who was waiting near a corner in the narrow passageway.

"This way." Indiana rounded the corner and Tom followed him, trying to see beyond the flickering flames. And then he saw a silvery shade float in front of Indiana. And another one. 

"You are aware this place is infested with ghosts, aren't you?" Tom asked quietly. He didn't have any problems with ghosts, having seen enough of them at Hogwarts, but he thought he'd point it out to Indiana, who was after all only a Muggle. 

"Ghosts? What ghosts?" Indiana looked at Tom over his shoulder, and promptly stepped through the one in front of him. 

"The ghost you just ran over," Tom said, now staring into the transparent face of an ancient-looking man who didn't seem all that pleased. 

"Don't be stupid. There are no ghosts here." Indiana marched on, and Tom sneaked around the ghost, quickly catching up with him. 

"Trust me," he said, grabbing hold of Indiana's shoulder. "I can see them."

"You see ghosts?"

"It's a...gift. And these ghosts don't look particularly happy." Tom looked behind him, and saw they were now being followed by three ghosts. The tallest one spoke, his voice hollow and distant. "It's speaking."

"What's it saying?" Indiana sounded as if he were only indulging Tom in his little fantasy. 

"I don't know. I don't understand the language. But he doesn't sound pleased."

A chilling wind blew around them, and the ghost's voice became louder, as if he were chanting something. 

"That chap who discovered the book? And got into trouble with those spirits?" Tom asked, now starting to feel anxious. "He wasn't a wizard by any chance, was he?"

Indiana halted and turned to look at Tom. "You mean Setne Khaemwaset? He was a High Priest, and some considered them to have magic powers, sure."

"Oh, hell," Tom said, and looked up at Indiana with wide eyes. "I think you should continue on your own."

"There's nothing to worry about. It's all right to get a little scared in a tomb like this one," Indiana assured him, running a hand down Tom's arm. 

"No, that's not it," Tom said. The ghosts had moved closer and surrounded them, two of them looking straight at Tom over Indiana's shoulders. "Trust me. I don't think it's a good idea I try to snatch that book."

"But – "

"Really, just trust me," Tom said, his voice insistent. "I'll wait for you outside." And with that, Tom turned around and hurried back, leaving a dumbfounded Indiana behind. As soon as he rounded the corner, he pulled out his wand and cast a quick Lumos so he could find his way up the stairs. He scrambled up as fast as he could, and he didn't relax until he found himself in the upper room again. 

His wand still in hand, Tom sat beside the hole and hoped Indiana would return soon. With Thoth's book of magic. He tapped his foot and drew symbols in the sand, most of them resembling the Slytherin crest. Minutes ticked by and they felt like hours, and Tom couldn't help but be worried about Indiana. 

He didn't think the ghosts were interested in a Muggle taking the book. But they had sensed him, a wizard, and there was no telling if they would take it out on Indiana, even though ghosts usually didn't bother with Muggles. 

"Look what I found!" Indiana's voice rose up from the passageway, and Tom let out a relieved breath. Indiana climbed out of the passageway, a dusty tome clutched to his chest. Tom quickly hid his wand and accepted the embrace Indiana gave him. 

"You got it." Tom smiled, and closed his eyes when Indiana pressed his lips to his. 

"Of course I did." Indiana sounded quite smug, but Tom didn't care. "Now what was that all about? Do you have a problem with small spaces or something?"

Tom snorted. "No. But I had reason to believe my presence would endanger us both."

Indiana gave him a puzzled look, and with his arm still around Tom's shoulders, he led him to the entrance. But just as they wanted to step out into the sunlight, a gunshot sounded, and a bullet struck the wall just above their heads. 

"Get down!" Indiana pushed the book into Tom's arms, and shoved him backwards. He pulled out his gun, and pressed himself to the wall while he fired back at their assailants. Tom held the book close and bit his lip as more shots were fired at them and bullets flew over their heads. 

"There are at least ten of them," Indiana said, and shot back a few times more. "And my spare gun is in the jeep. As are the bullets"

Tom's heart was hammering inside his chest. He'd never been under such direct attack by Muggles before, and he hated feeling this helpless. "Who are they?"

"Locals who don't want us stealing their things, I'd say," Indiana said through gritted teeth. He leaned forward, aimed his gun again, but fell back with a sharp cry. He'd been hit on the arm, and blood was seeping through the light fabric of his shirt. 

"That's it," Tom said, and offered the book to Indiana. "Take it. I'll take care of them."

"What?" Indiana accepted the book with one arm. "But you don't have a gun, kid."

"I don't need one." Tom grabbed his wand and inhaled a deep breath. Indiana looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, but Tom ignored him and glanced around the entrance. He spotted a figure wearing a blue turban trying to hide behind a rock nearby. Pursing his lips, Tom aimed his wand. 

"Avada Kedavra."

The figure dropped to the sand. This made two other men close by look up, and Tom cursed them at once. They too fell lifeless to the ground. 

"What are you doing?" Indiana asked, trying to look around the entrance as well. 

"Stay back!" Tom saw a man trying to run from one tomb to another. "Avada Kedavra." Tom stepped further away from the entrance, and saw a man lying in the shadow of another tomb, aiming a gun at him. "Avada Kedavra." Two more men with rifles jumped from behind the ruins, but Tom cursed them before either could pull the trigger. 

And then it was quiet. Tom released a shaky breath and lowered his wand. 

"What did you do?" Indiana stepped up behind Tom, staring at all the dead bodies with his mouth opened. 

"I killed them."

"I can see that. But how?"

Tom turned to look at Indiana. "With magic," he whispered, and raised his wand. "You're hurt."

Indiana gaped at Tom for a moment. "It's nothing. Just a graze. Did you say magic?"

"Yes. Let me heal it." Tom didn't wait for Indiana's consent, but pressed the tip of his wand to Indiana's arm while he muttered a healing spell. Indiana watched with wide eyes as the wound stopped bleeding. 

"But how?"

Tom sighed. "I'm a wizard. I do magic."

"But..."

"I'll explain later. For now I suggest we get out of here."

"Yeah. But..." Indiana followed Tom back to their camp, his mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out. They found their belongings still scattered around the jeep, but the jeep itself was damaged. Two flat tires, bullet holes everywhere, and the car leaked oil on the sand. 

"Shit," Indiana said, and kicked against one of the flat tires. "There's only one spare."

"We won't need it." Tom pulled his bag open and grabbed one of his books. He'd disguised it as Jules Verne's 'Around The World In Eighty Days,' but it transformed into 'A Wizard's Survival Guide' when Tom tapped it with his wand. 

"Here. Look up flying." Tom offered the book to Indiana, and stepped closer to the car to survey the damage. 

"Flying?" Indiana stared at the book for a moment, flipped it open, and skimmed through the pages. "There's a spell to turn salt water into fresh water?"

"Yes," Tom said absently, kneeling in the sand so he could spell the oil leak shut. 

"But how --?"

"Not now. Look up flying."

Indiana sighed, and turned a few more pages. Whipping his wand around, Tom gathered their belongings and levitated them into the jeep. 

"Here's something. How to charm any object to fly," Indiana said with a puzzled frown. "But how --?"

"That's it." Tom pulled the book from Indiana's hands and stared at the text. "Cars, cars, cars...ah! Cars. What's a carburetor?"

"It's under the hood."

"Okay. I need to spell the carburetor, the ignition and the gear shift."

"Did you say spell?" Indiana had taken off his hat, and was using it to wave air at his face. 

"Yes. It's simple." Tom gestured at Indiana, who slid his hat back on and popped the hood open. 

"That's the carburetor," Indiana said, giving Tom a dubious look. Tom ignored it and examined the correct spell before he cast it on that small part of the engine. It glowed yellow for a moment. Signaling Indiana to close the hood, Tom climbed into the jeep. He cast the spells on the ignition and the gear shift, and then hung over the door to look at Indiana. 

"Are you coming?"

Indiana looked uncertain. "It's got two flat tires. You can't drive it in this state."

"I'm not going to drive it. Now get in." Tom tucked his wand away and settled his feet on the pedals. Indiana opened the door at the passenger side, sat down on the seat with a stiff back, and closed the door again quietly. Offering him a smile, Tom turned the ignition. It didn't roar as it had done before. It gave a faint zooming sound, which accelerated when Tom pushed down the gas pedal.

The car give a jerk, and hovered a foot above the ground. Tom pushed the pedal down further, turning the wheel, and the car took off over the ruins and into the sky. 

"You can't fly a car," Indiana said, panic seeping into his voice. "How can you fly a car?"

Tom shrugged. "It's not much harder than flying a broomstick."

Indiana let out a strangled breath, looked down over the side of the car, and stared back at Tom, his face ghostly pale. 

"Don't worry," Tom said, and gave Indiana's knee a reassuring pat. "I need you to tell me where to go. The book's in the back."

Nodding, Indiana reached for Thoth's book of magic and opened it in his lap. "I'll see what I can find."

Tom leaned back in his seat, one elbow resting casually on the door as he steered the car higher and higher, wind whipping around his face. For the first time in days, Tom felt like himself again.

*~*~*~*~*

"Don't worry," Tom said, patting Indiana on the back. "Not everyone has the stomach for flying."

Indiana stood bent over, hands gripping his knees, and heaved again. "It's just so damn dizzying."

"Here." Tom handed Indiana a canteen of water. "I'll get a fire going."

They had decided to stop for the night when darkness had set in and navigation had become difficult. During their flight, Indiana had figured out from the writings in Thoth's book they should head towards the temple of Ombos in the far south of Egypt. They got about halfway when the setting sun forced them to land on a deserted stretch of Nile delta. 

Tom cast an Incendio on the last of their firewood, and levitated the pans and plates from the jeep. Indiana joined him, and together they prepared a simple meal. They sat side by side as they ate, but didn't speak. Tom couldn't even look at Indiana. He wasn't quite sure why, other than that he worried what Indiana's reaction to his magic would be now that the first bolts of disbelief had vanished. 

Leaning back against his bag, Indiana reached for his bottle of liquor and took a healthy swig. He looked at Tom, who glanced back briefly, and he patted the sand beside him. Tom took that as an invitation and shifted closer until he felt Indiana's body against his own. Indiana wrapped his arm around Tom's shoulders, and offered him the bottle. 

"So," Indiana said, and Tom was glad to see he was smiling. "You do magic."

Tom nodded and sipped the bottle. 

"Where did you learn to do magic?"

"I was born a wizard."

Indiana's eyebrows rose. "Your parents were wizards, too?"

"No," Tom said, taking another swig to burn away the bitterness in his throat. "My mother was a witch. She died right after she gave birth to me. My father was a Muggle – someone who's not magical – but he left my mother before I was born. He didn't like magic very much."

Indiana brushed his lips across Tom's temple. "Where did you learn how to do all those spells?"

"At Hogwarts."

"Hogwhat?"

Tom chuckled, and leaned closer to Indiana. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Britain. I got my acceptance letter when I was eleven. I had no idea I was a wizard before that."

"There are schools for that?"

"Yes. There are magical schools all around the world."

Indiana frowned, and took the bottle back from Tom. "But how come we don't know about it?"

"We keep it hidden," Tom said, idly running his fingers over Indiana's thigh. "Muggles don't react all that well to magic, as has been proven throughout history."

Nodding, Indiana glanced down. "What happened in the tomb? Did that have to do with you being a wizard?"

"Yes. That book," Tom pointed at Thoth's book of magic," is a spell book. It makes sense that its guardians, those ghosts, don't want a wizard to take it. But it's useless for a Muggle, which I why they didn't stop you, I think."

"That makes sense," Indiana said, and glanced at Tom, his eyes narrowed. "What do you want with that book? And with the Eye of Ra, should we find it?"

"I'm not sure yet," Tom lied. Somehow he didn't want to disappoint Indiana, and he thought that telling him of his plans would do exactly that. 

"Does it have anything to do with immortality?"

Tom pursed his lips. "Perhaps."

"Why does immortality matter so much to you?" Indiana shifted, so he could look Tom in the eye. 

"Death is the ultimate enemy. The worst adversary. Death only takes, and I refuse to let it."

"Isn't death just a part of life?" Indiana asked, pressing his lips to Tom's temple again, but Tom pulled away. 

"No. Death takes life. I won't let death take mine."

"But at what price?"

"I'll find out eventually, won't I?" Tom's stare was challenging, but Indiana ignored it. 

"I've seen immortality," Indiana said, his voice soft. "I've seen how far men will go to obtain it. I've seen what evil chases it. And I've learned that sometimes, it's better to let go of such things in order to save yourself."

"Perhaps you're right," Tom said, resting his cheek on Indiana's shoulder. "But I still want to find the Eye of Ra."

"Of course. We're not going to quit now." Indiana grinned and tipped Tom's chin up. "Do you want to get some sleep?"

Tom shook his head. 

"Can you think of anything else to do?" 

"Perhaps."

"Such as?"

Tom remembered how good he'd felt the previous night, how good Indiana's cock had made him feel. He gave Indiana a lopsided grin. "We could play cards. Or we could discuss music." He got up on his knees and pushed Indiana down on the sand. "Or we could make magic," he whispered, slipping his wand from his pocket. 

"Make magic?" Indiana chuckled, his fingers pulling Tom's shirt open button for button. 

"Oh yes," Tom said, and flicked his wand around, muttering a spell. A transparent barrier enclosed their campsite, briefly shimmering in the firelight. 

"What's that?"

"That is something I've been wanting to do for the last two nights," Tom said, straddling Indiana. "It will keep us warm." 

Indiana looked impressed, which made Tom smile as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Indiana's. They pulled at each other's shirts while their mouths locked, Indiana's lips and tongue making Tom's prick twitch and his sac tingle. Tom shrugged off his shirt, and after Indiana had done the same Tom kissed his way down Indiana's chest, nuzzling the hair that led him down to the waistband of Indiana's trousers. 

"What do you carry this thing around for?" Tom asked, giving the whip on Indiana's belt a pull.

"It comes in handy." Indiana flicked the clasp open and pulled his whip free. He unrolled it, the narrow cord spilling over his chest, and brushed the sturdy leather handle over Tom's hard nipples. Sighing, Tom arched his back and let Indiana stroke the handle down over his skin and brush it across the front of his trousers.

"Oh yes, I can see how it comes in handy," Tom said, pressing his hardening cock against the handle. "In fact, I think I have an idea for it."

"You do? Show me." Indiana released the whip and spread his arms in a submissive gesture. Tom stared down at him with hooded eyes, and grabbed hold of Indiana's wrists, pushing his arms up over his head. Then he reached for the whip, making sure the cord swept over Indiana's naked skin as he brought it up to Indiana's crossed wrists. He bound them together with a simple knot, making sure the coarse rope didn't chafe Indiana's skin. 

He knew Indiana could break free whenever he wanted, but it was the thought that counted. The sight of Indiana with bound wrists made Tom moan, rolling his hips and pressing his erection against Indiana's.

"You're at my command now," Tom whispered, darting his tongue out and licking Indiana's lips. 

"There are worse places to be." Indiana's smile was amused, but his eyes told Tom he wanted it as much as Tom did. It was thrilling to see such trust in a man's eyes, on a man's face. 

Tom slithered down Indiana's body, biting at his nipples and licking below his navel. He tugged Indiana's trousers open and stripped them off along with his boots. Then he nuzzled Indiana's sac, licked up his shaft and teased the head of his cock with small flicks of his tongue. Indiana groaned and bucked his hips up, but kept his arms tied down above his head. 

"I want to feel you inside me again," Tom said, staring up at Indiana as he brushed his lips up and down Indiana's prick. 

"In my bag. Small jar." Indiana released a shaky breath, his fingers curling around the whip. 

Tom got up, his legs trembling, and pulled off his own trousers and boots. He stood over Indiana, his cock erect and throbbing. Indiana stared at it as if he were a starving man. 

"Do you want to...er." Tom wasn't used to spelling such things out. As much as he loved playing he was in control, he didn't want to force Indiana into anything. 

"Oh yeah." Indiana nodded and licked his lips. 

Tom sank down to his knees, his legs on either side of Indiana's shoulders, and pressed the tip of his cock against Indiana's lips. Indiana parted them and sucked Tom down, laving the underside with his tongue. 

"God, that's good," Tom groaned, leaning forward and driving his prick deeper down Indiana's throat. His cheeks hollowing, Indiana took everything Tom gave him, and Tom thrust gently inside his mouth while he reached for Indiana's bag. He found the small jar, twisted the lid off, and spread the salve across his fingers. He reached behind himself and coated his pucker before driving two fingers inside. 

Indiana hummed his approval, and Tom gave him a lazy grin while he drove his cock in and out of Indiana's mouth and opened his own body up with impatient strokes. 

"Enough, or I'll..." Tom couldn't finish his sentence and gritted his teeth to stop his rising climax from taking hold of him. Indiana released his prick, giving the head one last lick, and Tom shifted down his body until he felt Indiana's cock press against his arse. 

"Easy," Indiana whispered when Tom tried to impale himself on Indiana's cock. "This is no time to be impatient."

Tom snorted and forced his body to relax, and god yes, there it was, that incredible feeling of being filled, of having a hard cock inside him. Tom sank down, his nostrils flaring and his eyelids fluttering. 

"That's it, that's it," Indiana chanted, pressing his hips up to bury his cock deeper inside Tom.

Tom wanted to tell Indiana how good it felt, but he was beyond words, beyond any coherent sound. He rocked his hips, Indiana's cock thrusting inside him harder and harder, and he grabbed his own prick, fisting it with fervent strokes 

The sight of Indiana's chest heaving, the muscles in his bound arms rippling under his skin, his mouth opened to inhale ragged breaths, and his eyes fixed on Tom stroking his cock was perhaps the most incredible thing Tom had ever seen. Because he was causing it. He had a man like Indiana under his control, and Indiana accepted it, let him take charge. He wanted Tom to ride him until he lost control. 

Tom came with a strangled cry, one hand clawing at Indiana's chest as he squeezed his cock and his semen spurted onto Indiana's sweat-slick skin in long, pearly strings. Tom shuddered, his hips stilling. But Indiana buried his heels in the sand and pounded inside Tom, so Tom's orgasm was prolonged and Tom kneaded his sac and gripped his spent cock and thought it felt even better than the night before. 

"Yeah, oh yeah, Tom, yeah, Tom," Indiana moaned, and his body stiffened , his cock shooting his release inside Tom's exhausted body. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Tom sagged down on Indiana, feeling his arse contract around Indiana's pulsing cock. 

"Good?" Indiana asked, pulling his wrists free of his whip. 

"Quite," Tom replied. He felt Indiana smile against his cheek, and then Indiana's hands rubbed across his back. 

"I bet you want to get some sleep now."

"Hmm," Tom agreed, running his fingers through Indiana's hair, brushing the sand out of it. "We can sleep like this."

Indiana chuckled, and wrapped his arms around Tom, and Tom didn't think he'd ever felt that safe and appreciated before.

*~*~*~*~*

It wasn't the cold that woke Tom the next morning. It was the feeling of a naked body against his own. They hadn't bothered putting their clothes back on or covering themselves with a blanket during the night, since Tom's spell kept them warm. Tom glanced to the side and saw Indiana's face, slack with sleep.

Tom thought about wrapping an arm around Indiana and waking him up with kisses. It seemed like a nice enough idea. But there was also the Eye of Ra, closer now than it had ever been. The Eye of Ra had called to Tom since he first read the legend three years ago. Tom stared at Indiana and thought about the Eye of Ra, and wasn't sure any longer which was the fairy tale. 

His body grew restless with his confusion and doubts, and Tom crawled to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. 

"Morning."

Tom looked at Indiana over his shoulder. "Morning."

"What time is it?" Indiana pushed himself up on his elbows, squinting his eyes against the morning light.

"The sun is up," Tom said, shrugging. "I'll get a fire going."

Indiana nodded, yawned, and also got to his feet. "I assume we're flying again today?"

"Do you have any other ideas?" Tom asked with a grin. 

"Unfortunately, no." Indiana brushed his fingers across the back of Tom's neck and down his shoulder. "I'm going to wash up."

"Okay," Tom said, ducking his head and looking at Indiana's naked body from under his eyelashes. He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, but no matter from what angle he looked, Indiana seemed like a mirage against the sight of green trees and the sound of the Nile streaming in the distance.

*~*~*~*~*

"Don't get your hopes up, kid," Indiana said as they stood in front of the temple of Ombos. "This place has been raided a few times throughout history. Chances are the Eye of Ra isn't even here anymore."

Tom's stomach tightened, and he turned away from the temple to look out over the neighboring Nile valley. It looked gloomy, shrouded in shadows by the setting sun. They had only just arrived at their destination, but Tom had insisted they not wait until the next morning to enter the Temple. 

"But we won't know for sure until we see it for ourselves," Indiana said, and put his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Tom said, and cast a Lumos. Indiana lit his torch, and entered the darkness of the ancient sanctuary. Tom followed him, shining the light of his wand at the walls to look for clues. The book of Thoth hadn't given much information besides the location of the temple. 

"Baboons," Indiana said, pointing his torch at the images of three baboons. "Symbol of Thoth."

Tom moved deeper into the temple, and noticed something on the walls. "The ankh. Symbol of life."

"Yeah," Indiana said. He stood beside Tom and looked at the image. "But that doesn't –"

"Sshh!" Tom turned around and stared into the darkness. 

"What?"

"I feel something." Holding his wand in front of him, Tom crossed the room with small steps.

"What do you feel?" Indiana followed him, his shoulder bumping against Tom's. 

Tom halted. "Magic," he whispered. 

"Where?" Indiana waved his torch in front of them, and suddenly took a step back. 

Before them stood a statue of a cobra, carved out of the temple's wall, towering over them with its mouth opened and venomous fangs poised to strike. 

"That's a big snake," Indiana said, grinding his teeth. 

"I've seen bigger," Tom said with a chuckle, and stepped up to the cobra. "What do you suppose it means?"

"I'm not sure." Indiana put one hand on the cobra's belly and pushed. Nothing happened. "It could be an entrance." He lowered his torch, and the flames flickered for a moment. "Draft. This is an entrance."

"Ah." Tom smiled and ignored Indiana's questioning look. "Open," he said in parseltongue. 

The statue screeched as it slowly slid aside to reveal a narrow passageway. 

"Salazar, you cunning old copycat," Tom said to himself, and laughed.

Indiana's mouth sank open. "How did you...what did you...?"

"I spoke in parseltongue. The tongue of serpents. And this isn't the first time I've seen this particular trick. Believe me, the first time it took me a lot longer to figure out."

"The tongue of serpents? Does that mean you can –"

"Talk to snakes? Yes. How did you think I got that cobra to back down in the tea shop?"

"Well," Indiana said, and frowned.

"It's just a special kind of magic," Tom said, and gave Indiana a playful nudge with his elbow. "Come on. Stay behind me. I expect to find more magic here."

They entered the passageway, taking calculated steps and keeping a close eye on the walls around them. Tom sensed more magic, small vibrations that tickled his bones, and his heart started beating faster with excitement. He knew they were close. 

"I read about the Cult of the Cobra," Tom said, glancing at Indiana over his shoulder. "But I wasn't sure if it was real, since its history has been documented by Muggles."

"What?"

"The Cult of the Cobra was rumored to be founded by wizards in ancient Egypt. It was a secret cult, and they posed as High Priests to Muggles. But they knew magic that has been lost over the years."

"Let me guess," Indiana said, "They knew how to become immortal."

Tom nodded. "Apparently, some Muggles got wind of it, and tried to copy what they were doing. They ended up with mummies, though."

"I don't expect you'd like to write a paper on this?" Indiana asked. Tom replied with a snort. "That's what I thought," Indiana continued. "This changes everything we know about ancient Egypt. It should be announced."

"I don't think that's such – " Tom closed his mouth. Before them the passageway opened up into what could only be described as a small ravine. The light of Tom's wand wasn't strong enough to illuminate the other side of it and all they saw was a gaping black hole. 

"Cover your eyes," Tom said, and squeezed his own eyes to slits. "Lumos Maximus."

It was as if the sun suddenly burst out of Tom's wand and the entire ravine lit up, revealing the other side at least sixty feet away.

"That's too wide for my whip," Indiana said, holding one arm over his eyes. 

Tom looked at the ravine, turned his head to look at Indiana for a moment, and then looked back again. 

"What?" Indiana asked, worried. 

"I know you don't like to fly, but this is the only solution," Tom said, and he couldn't hold back a grin as he aimed his wand at Indiana. "Just relax. I'll get you across. Wingardium Leviosa!"

"Tom!" Indiana's mouth dropped open as Tom levitated him up in the air and moved him over the ravine. 

"Stop squirming!" Tom called, concentrating on keeping Indiana in the air. 

"That's easy for you to say!" Indiana called back, hanging in the air above the bottomless pit. He flailed his arms and kicked his legs, and just when he was only three feet away from the other side, his hat slipped off and disappeared into the darkness beneath him. "My hat! I like that hat!"

Tom rolled his eyes and put Indiana down safely on the other side. He broke the spell and pointed his wand at the ravine. "Accio!"

Indiana's hat came flying up and landed in Tom's outstretched hand. Tom smirked at Indiana across the ravine, and apparated to the other side with an echoing crack. 

"Here," he said, offering Indiana his hat. 

Indiana stared at Tom as if he'd just transformed into the giant cobra they'd encountered earlier. 

"It's only magic." Tom plopped the hat down on Indiana's head and pointed the light of his wand at the passageway to their right. 

"But how –"

"It's called apparition," Tom said, and gestured for Indiana to follow him. "This way."

Indiana followed him, and they walked deeper and deeper into the earth. The magic in the air got stronger, and Tom could feel it on every inch of his body. It felt much like the first time he'd discovered the Chamber of Secrets, only much more intense. 

This was Dark magic, and it called to Tom, whispering his name in voices so sweet Tom could taste them on his tongue.

And then they reached a dead end. Tom halted and shone his wand on the wall. There were countless hieroglyphs, most of which Tom didn't recognize, and when he aimed his wand higher he saw the outline of what could be a door. 

"What do those hieroglyphs mean?" 

"What hieroglyphs?" Indiana asked, looking over Tom's shoulder. 

"The ones on the door."

"What door? There's only a blank wall."

Tom snickered. "Muggle protection. You can't see it, but I can. There's a door."

"Ah," Indiana said, frowning. "They can do that?"

"Obviously." Tom pursed his lips and stared at the stone door. "Open," he said in parseltongue. 

Nothing happened. 

"Did it open?" Indiana asked, squinting his eyes at the door. 

Sighing, Tom shook his head. He tapped his wand against it, once, twice, but the door didn't move one inch. 

"Still closed?"

"Yes," Tom said. "There are a lot of hieroglyphs of snakes. Cobras, I think." He tapped his finger against one of the images, and felt the door vibrate under his touch. 

"That's it," he said, and pressed the palm of his hand against the stone. The door trembled. He pushed his other hand against it as well. The door shook, but remained closed. Tom felt the magic on the other side of it seep through, heating his flesh. "It's there," he whispered, "It's right there, but this stupid door won't open."

"Tell me about the other hieroglyphs."

"There are snakes, mostly. And a few ankhs."

"The ankh is life," Indiana said. "Maybe it needs proof of life."

"That's ridiculous."

"Hey, don't go calling that ridiculous. I can't even see the damned thing."

"How can I give it proof of life? Do you suggest I breathe against it?" Tom asked, and narrowed his eyes. "Actually, that's not such a bad idea." Tom blew against the stone, and the door again shook under his hands. 

"Nothing?"

"Not enough," Tom said, and let his hands fall away from the door. "Perhaps it doesn't matter whose blood flows through my veins. Perhaps only a pureblood can go beyond this point."

Indiana tilted his head. "Blood is life," he said. 

Tom snapped his gaze at Indiana. "Of course. It needs blood."

"There's no harm in trying," Indiana said, and pulled a small knife from his belt. He handed it to Tom, who accepted it and sliced the blade across his palm. Keeping his eyes locked with Indiana's, Tom pressed his bleeding hand against the stone, trickles of blood pouring over the images of snakes. 

The door shook so hard, Tom was worried the ceiling would come down. He ducked his head and crouched down, not taking his hand off the door. Indiana grabbed his shoulder with tight fingers. Dust and tiny pieces of rock rained down from the ceiling while the door shook and the ground quaked. 

"I think it's working!" Tom said over the thunderous sound of the door moving, stone against stone. 

"Looks like it!" Indiana wiped dust off his face. "I can see it now."

Tom inhaled a deep breath, released the door, and grinned at Indiana. "And people claim blood isn't important."

"What?"

"Never mind," Tom said, and stared into the room as he shone the light from his wand inside. Magic poured out of the darkness, vibrating the air around Tom and leaving him panting. "Stay here," he told Indiana. "There's strong magic inside there. I don't know how it will affect a Muggle."

"All right. Be careful." Indiana stood in front of the opened door, one hand on his pistol, and Tom walked inside, shining light on the bare walls around him. The room was small and empty save for an altar in the center. 

Tom shuffled closer, the magic around him almost thick enough to suffocate him, and his chest heaved as he gasped for breath. On the alter lay the Eye of Ra. A stone, not much bigger than Tom's hand. A blue stone, semi-transparent. A thousand shades of blue in the light of Tom's wand. Blue like Hogwarts' lake in the spring. Blue like the desert sky. Blue like the ocean during an autumn storm. Blue like Indiana's eyes filled with lust. 

Blue unlike anything Tom had ever seen before. It was calling to him, hypnotizing him, seducing him, and all Tom could do was reach out his hand and close his fingers around it. 

It took hold of him, burned against his palm, seeped into his body, magic stronger than any spell or curse Tom had ever felt. Magic that owned him, swallowed him, buried him. 

Light burst from the Eye of Ra as Tom held it out in front of him. Blue light that reflected off the walls and blinded Tom, forced him to close his eyes and surrender to the power in his hand, the magic that literally took his breath away. 

The walls shook, the ceiling trembled, and the stone floor caved beneath his feet, crumbling into an endless black pit around him. 

"Tom!" he heard a faint voice behind him. "Tom! Get out of there!"

Tom lolled his head to the side, forced his eyes open and saw Indiana standing in the doorway, reaching for his whip. 

And he fell into darkness, the Eye of Ra melted into his hand, into his soul, and there was nothing around him, no sound, no light, just darkness. 

Something sharp wrapped around his wrist like the tail of a snake, and Tom thought he was flying through an eternal night, until that feeling faded and everything around him and inside him turned black.

"Tom. Wake up."

There was a voice, calling his name. A name he'd once had. And there were lips pressing against his own. Lips he knew. Lips he'd felt before. 

Tom blinked his eyes open and kissed those lips that touched his. He stared into Indiana's eyes. Blue eyes. Blue like the Eye of Ra. Tom snapped his gaze to the side and saw the Eye of Ra safely nestled in the palm of his hand. 

"Tom," Indiana said, sounding relieved. 

Smiling, Tom stared up at Indiana. "Seems like you're the one who got to kiss Snow White awake."

Indiana laughed and sat back, trailing a finger down Tom's cheek. "Welcome back, kid."

"What happened?" Tom pushed himself up on his elbows and noticed they were sitting in the passageway.

"The floor caved." Indiana reached for his whip, which lay discarded to his side. "Told you it comes in handy," he said, rolling his whip up and attaching it to his belt. 

Tom stared at Indiana, taking in what he was saying. "You saved my life," he said, and wondered why that made him feel good while it complicated his plans. 

Shrugging, Indiana brushed sand off his trousers. "You saved mine back in the tea shop. It's all part of the adventure that is archeology."

Tom started chuckling and it quickly turned into laughter. Indiana grinned, and cupped the back of Tom's neck to pull him close for a kiss. 

"I thought I'd lost you," Indiana whispered against Tom's lips. "What happened?"

"Magic. Strong magic," Tom said, and pressed another kiss to Indiana's lips. Then he pulled back and stared at his hand. It felt as if the Eye of Ra had melted across his skin, but the stone was intact, as was his hand. He slowly uncurled his stiff fingers and let the blue stone fall to his lap. 

"Are you all right now? Think you can stand?"

"Yes," Tom said, and let Indiana pull him to his feet. His legs were weak and his head felt dizzy, but he thought he was all right. He slid the Eye of Ra into the pocket of his trousers. "We've got what we came for. Let's get out of here."

"Excellent idea," Indiana said, and kept his arm wrapped around Tom's waist as they made their way back through the dark passageway. 

Tom managed to levitate Indiana across the ravine and apparate himself to the other side, but as he appeared in front of Indiana, his knees buckled. Indiana slid his arm around Tom again as Tom sagged against him. 

"Let's get you out of here," Indiana whispered, and as Tom stared up at him he saw concern in Indiana's eyes. Tom didn't think he'd ever seen anyone look concerned about him before, and it made his exhausted body shiver. But something was different now. The small things Indiana did that had touched Tom before didn't seem as intense anymore. As if something was blocking it from Tom's mind. As if the Eye of Ra's pulse Tom felt alongside his own heartbeat didn't allow him to get caught up in affectionate gestures like that. 

They didn't speak, and when they reached the temple Tom felt as if he'd climbed a mountain. He wanted to stop for a moment, close his eyes and catch his breath, but Indiana's tight grip caught his attention. 

In the doorway of the temple stood five men with blue turbans holding wicker baskets. Before Indiana could grab his gun or Tom could pull out his wand, the men pulled the lids off the baskets and threw their contents at them. 

Five cobras fell to the floor, curling around each other before focusing their attention on Tom and Indiana. 

"Do people usually throw snakes at you?" Indiana asked with a weak chuckle. 

"No, usually I send big snakes after people," Tom replied, staring at the closest cobra, which raised its slim body up and hissed at him. 

"Cover your eyes. These things can spit venom," Indiana said. Tom ignored him and inhaled a deep breath. 

"Leave us alone," he hissed in parseltongue. "We mean you no harm."

Suddenly, the men in the doorway started speaking to each other, rushed and panicked, and Tom didn't understand a word they were saying. 

"Something about guardians," Indiana said, staring at the men with a frown. "Guardians of the temple. Something about a serpent-man who will return."

"Ah," Tom said, and looked back at the snakes. "The heir of Slytherin. This is starting to make sense."

"It is?" Indiana asked, not looking comfortable at all being cornered by five cobras. 

Tom nodded. "I speak your tongue," he hissed to the snakes. "Allow us to pass."

The cobras hissed to each other, too quick for Tom to understand, and then they slithered to the side, creating a path for Tom and Indiana. This caused the Arabs to speak even louder and faster, pointing at Tom with trembling hands. 

"They think you're the serpent-man," Indiana said, his voice hushed. 

"That's because I am," Tom said, and grabbed Indiana's elbow. "Stay close. They won't hurt us." Tom led Indiana down the narrow path the cobras had created towards the Arabs, who backed away. When Tom and Indiana stepped out of the temple, the men fell to their knees, pressing their faces to the sand.

Indiana gave Tom a dubious look. 

"It's better than getting shot at, isn't it?" Tom said, trying to lighten the mood, though he felt overwhelmed by the sight of those Arabs submitting to him. Everything he'd read was true, he realized. He'd found the origins of the House of Slytherin. He'd found his own heritage.

When they reached the jeep, Tom leaned against it and lowered his head. 

"You need to rest," Indiana said, looking tired as well. Tom nodded. "There's a village nearby. I'm sure we can find a place to sleep there. We can travel back to Cairo tomorrow."

Tom nodded again. "Yes," he said, and pulled his bag from the car. Indiana got his own bag, and together they walked down the hill in the direction of the Nile.

*~*~*~*~*

"It has a shower," Indiana said, peeking around the door into a tiny bathroom.

"My fortune for a shower," Tom said, throwing his bag to the floor and locking the door of their small room. 

"Just your fortune?" Indiana grabbed Tom's arm and pulled him close. "I'm not interested in your fortune. How about your ass?"

Tom chuckled, and let Indiana capture his lips in a kiss. It was slow and familiar, and Tom didn't want to think about not feeling those lips against his own. 

"You should come to America with me," Indiana said, brushing his lips across the tip of Tom's nose. "You can work at the University, or perhaps Marcus will want your expertise for his museum. Imagine what we could do together, Tom. We make one hell of a team."

Something broke inside Tom and ripped his mind apart. He could imagine the things he and Indiana could do together. He could think of a life with this man, filled with adventure and friendship and perhaps even more. He wanted it, because he didn't want whatever had happened between them to stop. 

But the Eye of Ra pulsed inside his pocket, inside his mind, reminding him of his true destiny. 

"I don't want to talk," he said, and kissed Indiana again. Indiana grinned, and dragged a suggestive hand down the front of Tom's trousers. Tom moaned, grinding his hips against Indiana. 

"Shower?" Indiana asked with a cocky tilt of his head. 

"Yes, please," Tom said. He pulled the Eye of Ra out of his trousers and placed it on the nightstand. Not yet, he thought. Not yet. 

They undressed each other in silence, their fingers making quick work of buttons and belts. When they were both naked, Tom looked up at Indiana and worried his lip. Indiana reached for his hand and pulled Tom with him towards the shower. It was small and the water was cold, but Tom loved the feeling of Indiana's wet body pressed against his own. 

They kissed, their mouths hungry and eager as water rained down on them. Tom didn't want to stop kissing. He didn't want to stop feeling Indiana's lips against his own. Not yet. 

When the water had washed away the dust and dirt, Indiana gently turned Tom around, and Tom pressed himself against the cool tiles, spreading his legs. The touch of Indiana's fingers against his pucker was familiar, but Tom cherished the feeling because he didn't want it to stop. Not yet. 

Indiana's cock pressed against his entrance, hard and impatient, and slid inside with one sharp thrust. Tom groaned, his palms pressed against the damp wall while cold water ran down his back and Indiana's cock burned inside him. 

"Harder," he breathed, and Indiana complied, his thrusts quick and brutal. Tom cupped his own sac, squeezing to keep his climax back. Pressing wet kisses to Tom's shoulder and the back of his neck, Indiana reached for Tom's hard cock and curled his fingers around it. Tom pushed his hips up against Indiana's hand, because even though he didn't want it to end, he couldn't get enough of the feeling of Indiana fucking him and stroking him until he'd come harder and longer than he ever had. 

"Don't stop. Don't stop." Because he didn't want Indiana to stop. Not yet. 

"Almost. Almost there," Indiana rasped, pounding inside Tom and driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. 

"Not yet," Tom said, and didn't like how desperate he sounded. "Not yet."

But there was no stopping it, no matter how much Tom didn't want it to end. His cock twitched against Indiana's palm, and Tom came with a muffled cry and incoherent words that sounded like, "Please don't stop."

Indiana thrust a few times more, his prick hot inside Tom, almost as hot as the Eye of Ra had felt against his skin. And then he sagged against Tom, filling Tom with his release, his hips giving a couple of jerks. 

And it was over. 

Tom couldn't believe it was over, even though he felt Indiana's spent cock slip from his arse and Indiana turned him around to give him a kiss that was contented instead of hungry. 

"Let's get some sleep," Indiana said, turning off the tap. He didn't sound like Tom felt, as if he didn't realize it was all over. Tom nodded, his wet hair plastered over his eyes, and followed Indiana into the small room. They lay down on top of the sheets and Indiana pulled Tom close, his skin still damp and his kisses soft and satisfied. Tom stared at Indiana, and didn't look at the Eye of Ra. Not yet.

*~*~*~*~*

The Eye of Ra glowed in the darkness of the room, casting an eerie blue light on Indiana's sleeping features. Tom kept his eyes fixed on Indiana and tried not to see the light. But it was there and it called to Tom. It whispered his name and told him of all the things he had to do. All the things he'd set out to do when he'd first arrived in Egypt.

There was no stopping it, no matter how much Tom wanted time to freeze, allowing him to lie against Indiana for the rest of his life. 

But it was time. Tom finally turned his head and looked at the Eye of Ra, and heard what it was saying to him. It was time. 

Tom got up, careful not to wake Indiana, and dressed as quickly as he could. He didn't look at Indiana, but kept his gaze fixed on the Eye of Ra. It was his destiny. No Muggle could ever replace that. Tom knew it, knew what he had to do, so he slid the Eye of Ra inside his trousers, picked up his bag, and left the room without looking back. 

He walked out of the boardinghouse and found himself at the bank of the Nile, the sky dark and the moon reflected on the calm water. He saw the glowing eyes of crocodiles on the other side of the river. 

"What are you doing?"

Tom lowered his head when he heard Indiana's voice behind him. "Watching the crocodiles."

"What?"

Lowering his bag to the sand, Tom turned around and stared at Indiana, who stood a few feet away, dressed only in his trousers. "Crocodiles are meant to kill," Tom said. "It's what they are. Would you ever expect a crocodile to stop killing?"

"What are you saying?" Indiana stepped closer, and Tom immediately took a step back and reached for his wand. He pointed it at Indiana, who stared at it with wide eyes. "Tom?"

"That's not my name."

"Tom isn't your name?"

"It was, once. But it isn't any longer."

Indiana ran a hand through his hair. "You're not making any sense. Come back to bed."

"No," Tom said, and raised his wand a bit more. "I can't."

Releasing a dry laugh, Indiana spread his arms. "What are you going to do? Why are you aiming that thing at me?"

Tom inhaled a deep breath and tried to stop his hand from trembling. 

"You want to kill me?" Indiana gave another dry laugh, but it couldn't mask the fear in his voice. 

"That was the initial plan, yes," Tom said. He ignored Indiana's sharp intake of breath. "I've learned that killing is a perfect way to cover your tracks."

"Tom, please. Why? Have I done something that – "

"No," Tom said, and narrowed his eyes. "You've done nothing wrong. You've...been good. But this isn't true."

"What isn't true?"

Tom reached inside his pocket and pulled out the Eye of Ra. "To you, this was a fairy tale. But to me, it's reality. But this," he gestured his wand between them both, "is a fairy tale to me. A Muggle and a wizard. It's just not real."

Indiana swallowed. "Tom, what happened between us was real. It's real to me."

"No, it can never be real."

"You're not your father," Indiana said, taking a small step towards Tom. 

"You're right. I'm nothing like my father. I killed my father."

Indiana's face paled, and his arms dropped to his side. 

"I killed him," Tom said, and it felt good to say those words. "I killed him and my grandparents. I killed an innocent girl, too. She'd done nothing to me. But I killed her, because I could."

"Tom, this isn't like you – "

"You don't know me. You know nothing about me."

"But I want to know you," Indiana said, and Tom was surprised by the determination he heard in Indiana's voice. "I know the part you've shown me these past few days, and no matter what you've done in your past, I know that part of you is good. That part of you can believe a fairy tale and wants it to be real."

Tom tightened his fingers around the Eye of Ra and felt it burn against his skin. "It's too late," he said. "It's too late for me to change who I am. Who I'm destined to be."

"It's never too late," Indiana said, and crossed the space between them. Tom pressed the tip of his wand against Indiana's chest, but Indiana didn't step back. 

"I don't want to hurt you," Tom said. "But I have to leave."

"You don't have to leave. You have a choice."

"I've already made my choice."

Indiana lowered his gaze and sighed. "All right," he said, sounding defeated. "Leave, if that's what you want."

Nodding, Tom slid the Eye of Ra back inside his trousers and opened his bag. He pulled out a stash of money and offered half of it to Indiana. 

"I already told you. I don't want your money," Indiana said, his voice tight. 

"Take it. It was part of our agreement," Tom said, pushing the money against Indiana's chest. 

"Our agreement changed the moment you kissed me, Tom."

Tom released a frustrated breath. "Fine. But this is all I have to offer."

"I know. But it's not what I want." Indiana touched Tom's shoulder and cupped the back of his neck. 

"This won't change anything. I'm still leaving."

"And I'm still going to kiss you," Indiana said, and pressed his lips to Tom's. Much to his own surprise, Tom answered the kiss and let Indiana devour his mouth. When Indiana pulled back, Tom was panting, and he licked his lips as he stared up into Indiana's eyes. 

"Look, if you ever change your mind, come and find me," Indiana said, a small smile playing around his lips while he brushed his fingers down Tom's cheek. "Because I've already made my choice, and I'll never forget you."

"Oh yes, you will," Tom said, and pressed the tip of his wand against Indiana's temple and squeezed his eyes shut. "Obliviate."

Indiana's gaze was dazed when Tom looked at him again. He tried not to notice how dull Indiana's blue eyes looked. He shoved the stash of money behind the waistband of Indiana's trousers, and slid his wand inside his pocket. 

"I'll never forget you, Indy," Tom said, and pressed his lips to Indiana's in a quick kiss one last time. And then he closed his eyes and disapparated. 

 

~~fin~~

**Author's Note:**

> History tells us that Cleopatra committed suicide by letting a cobra, which had been delivered to her in a basket of figs, bite her. The legend of Setne Khaemwaset is real, including Thoth's book of magic, and the spirits of Pharaohs guarding it. There is a Necropolis near Memphis, and there is a temple in Ombos. The Eye of Ra and the Cult of the Cobra are completely made up.


End file.
